


All Dogs Go to Remus' Flat, Apparently

by iamsiriusblackserious



Series: dumb titles, dumb boys, and beautiful dogs [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Dogs, Domestic, M/M, Present Tense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-25 17:06:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4969219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamsiriusblackserious/pseuds/iamsiriusblackserious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Now, before you murder me and distribute my body parts across Britain, you should know that he followed me home and none of this is my fault,” Sirius says.</p>
<p>“Your defense is that a strange dog followed you home and so you had no choice but to let him into our flat?”</p>
<p>“Well, when you say it like that, it just sounds irresponsible!”</p>
<p>“Brilliant, that’s exactly what I was going for.”</p>
<p>or</p>
<p>Remus comes home to find a strange dog sitting on his couch and he's Not Happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Dogs Go to Remus' Flat, Apparently

**Author's Note:**

> a birthday ficlet for my darling skylar, whose birthday was....in june...
> 
> thanks for putting up with me
> 
> also, I've never written in present tense before, and it probably shows
> 
> sorry this is so shit
> 
> also yes I am aware that the title is dumb. I feel it sets up the fic nicely

The first thing Remus notices when he enters his apartment is that Sirius has left his muddy boots by the door, _again_. The second thing he notices is the strange dog sitting on his couch.

“What,” he says, blinking slowly at the strange dog, which is staring back at him and panting lightly. It’s somewhere in between a puppy and a full-grown dog, long-haired with intelligent brown eyes, floppy ears, and a long bushy tail that wags back and forth excitedly. It’s also incredibly filthy, the color of its fur a mystery beneath the dark caked on mud that covers it from nose to the tip of its tail.

Sirius enters the living room then, staring intently at the bowl in his hands, shuffling slowly so as to avoid spilling any of the contents, and it isn’t until he stops beside the couch to place the bowl on the floor that he even notices Remus is in the room. His eyes widen comically and he nearly tips the bowl in his shock. “Moony!” he greets Remus with forced cheer, carefully setting the bowl on the floor by the couch. “You’re…you’re home early!” he continues, eyes darting nervously around the room as if trying to find something to detract from the conversation.

“Slow shop day,” Remus replies, then lightly shakes the bag in his hand. “I brought curry from that place you like…but I only got enough for two. If I’d known we had company, I would’ve planned accordingly.”

The gentle rebuke makes Sirius wince, his hands twisting nervously in the front of the jumper he’s wearing – Remus’ jumper, actually, a minor theft that he’s grown used to over the years. It makes him want to smile, but he keeps his face carefully blank and waits. This will go one of two ways, Remus knows; either Sirius will cave under the weight of Remus’ disapproval and grovel, or he’ll try to talk his way out of it (this usually doesn’t end well, but it never stops him from trying).

The silence grows and grows, stretching out for one minute then two, until finally Sirius’ fingers unclench from the fabric and his face breaks into his most charming smile; this means he’s taken the second route, and Remus mentally sighs in preparation.

“Now, before you murder me and distribute my body parts across Britain, you should know that he followed me home and none of this is my fault,” Sirius says.

“Your defense is that a strange dog followed you home and so you had no choice but to let him into our flat?”

“Well, when you say it like that, it just sounds irresponsible!”

“Brilliant, that’s exactly what I was going for.”

Sirius huffs out an indignant sigh and plants his hands on his hips. He opens his mouth to continue arguing, but the dog beats him to it, jumping down from the couch with a deep groan. It’s wet and muddy and bedraggled, but even so, its tail is still wagging happily; it’s panting with its mouth open, tongue lolling out, and it’s staring up at Sirius now.

Sirius’ expression instantly clears and he crouches down to scratch behind one filthy ear. “Don’t worry, boy, Daddy and Pop-Pop aren’t getting a divorce,” he croons to the dog, receiving an excited yip for his troubles.

“We’re not married, Sirius. And this dog is definitely not our child. And – wait, I’m Pop-Pop, aren’t I?”

“Let’s be honest, Moons, you’re an old man trapped in a sexy librarian’s body.”

“I am _not_ -”

“Remus!” Sirius gasps dramatically, clapping his hands over the dog’s ears in horror. “No fighting in front of the children!”

“The chil- no, I’m not getting sucked into this, Sirius, we are _not_ keeping this dog!” Remus states firmly. He crosses his arms over his chest, just to show he’s serious, and fixes his boyfriend with a fierce stare.

Sirius, as expected, finally crumbles under the force of Remus’ disapproval. “Alright, you’re right, I shouldn’t have brought him here without talking to you first,” he concedes. “But – he just looked so _sad_ , Moony! He’s all wet and _muddy_ , and he looks so _thin_ , and he just kept _following_ me, and – I couldn’t leave him on the street! Look how _good_ he is, he belongs in a _good_ home, with a _good_ family, and…” he trails off into broody silence. He’s slumped over with the majority of his weight leaning against the dog, which if anything appears even happier than before, his arms wrapped around the dog’s body despite the mud and rainwater that is surely seeping into his borrowed jumper. The sight is both simultaneously aggravating and endearing, as most things involving Sirius usually are.

Remus keeps his arms crossed over his chest for another long moment, purely to prolong Sirius’ suffering, then lets them fall back to his sides on a sigh. “Take your new friend into the bathroom while I get the dish soap from the kitchen,” he says wearily.

“What – why?”

“Because, Sirius, if it’s going to stay here for the night, it needs a good scrubbing,” Remus clarifies, groaning when Sirius’ face immediately lights up. “Don’t get your hopes too high, I said _for the night_ – we don’t need a dog.”

His warning, as always, fails to dull Sirius’ spirit, and Remus sighs once more as he walks into the kitchen to set the curry in the oven and grab the dish soap from its place beside the kitchen faucet. It’s not that he doesn’t like dogs; there are few things he wouldn’t do to pet one, honestly. But there’s a significant difference between petting someone else’s dog and having one of your own, and what with Sirius’ short attention span and Remus’ fluctuating work schedule, it’s just asking for disaster. After all, that’s exactly what happened with their last pet – Finn the goldfish, may he rest in peace, had lasted all of a week before snuffing it (both of his owners were under the impression that the other was feeding him, and sadly, neither were correct) and Remus had vowed then and there to never let Sirius talk him into another pet again. After all, compared to a tiny goldfish, a dog was considerably more difficult to flush down the loo.

When he walks into the bathroom, Sirius is attempting to coax the dog into the bathtub. “Come on boy, it’s okay!” he coos, making odd, jerking gestures that are apparently meant to encourage the dog to jump in of its own accord. Judging by the way it doesn’t budge an inch, it’s an exercise in futility.

“Just pick him up, Sirius. It’s not like you can ruin my jumper anymore than you already have,” Remus grumbles.

“I’ll…wash it?”

“You don’t know how to use a washing machine!”

“I’m sure I can get it clean somehow.”

Five minutes later, they’re kneeling side by side in front of the bathtub, completely soaked from head to toe, and Remus regrets everything. But they’ve managed to rinse the worst of the dirt from the dog’s fur, which turns out to be a rich gold. Sirius squirts an alarming amount of dish soap onto the dog’s back and sets the bottle on the edge of the tub next to Remus’ elbow – a mistake, as it ends up on the floor seconds later when Remus reaches out to gather up some of the soap so that he can begin scrubbing its legs. The dog itself is shaking and softly whimpering, but its tail is still slowly wagging, and whenever Sirius leans in close, it licks his face. Despite his wet clothes and aching knees, Remus can’t keep an indulgent smile off his face, and as Sirius continues to work the soap into the fur on the dog’s neck, Remus says, “This reminds me of the first time we babysat Harry.”

Sirius’ eyes widen and he lets out a bark of laughter that startles the dog into a low whine. “Shit, that was the most terrifying night of my life!” he laughs, patting the dog’s neck in a calming manner. “Who knew bathing a newborn was such a harrowing experience?”

“I thought our first date was the most terrifying night of your life?”

“No, that was during the _day_ , it was the most terrifying _day_ of my life.”

Remus digs his elbow into Sirius’ ribs and ignores his pained yelp to lean closer to the dog and say, “Daddy likes to think he’s funny.”

When he pulls back, Sirius is staring. “What?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

Shaking his head, Sirius says, “I’ve changed my mind. I can’t handle you calling me ‘Daddy’ like that all the time.”

Remus opens his mouth to remind him that the dog isn’t staying; then he rethinks it, and swallows back the words. Sirius notices this, the bastard, and his voice is entirely too smug when he asks Remus to pass him the plastic cup he grabbed earlier from the vanity. Remus knocks him down a peg by scooping soapy water from the bath and dumping it over his head.

This seems to work for all of fifteen minutes, but as they’re wrapping the shivering dog in Remus’ good towels and vigorously rubbing it dry, Sirius much too casually asks, “So, what are we going to call him?”

Remus doesn’t even hesitate. “Finn II,” he says.

“Oh my god, – _no_ , we are not naming him after our dead fish!” Sirius sighs. “You’re horrible at names.”

“Well, you _asked_.”

Sirius pulls the dog’s face up from where it’s sniffing one of the towels, and he gazes deep into its eyes for a long moment. “Simon,” he decides finally, leaning in to allow the newly-named dog to lick his face.

“Really?”

“He’s a Simon, Remus. It’s obvious.”

“Oh, stop acting so haughty, you just named him after the bloke from that show you like.”

“It’s a great show, Moony!”

Simon groans again as if in agreement, the traitor.

Later, Remus will wonder if he gave in too easily. He’ll bemoan his own lack of self-control where his boyfriend is concerned. He’ll grumble about early morning potty runs and obedience classes and “ _notice how all of my house slippers are chewed up while your stupid muddy boots are still sitting untouched by the door_ ”. But now, they curl up on the blanket-covered couch with their curry and watch telly, and Remus only halfheartedly protests when Simon ends up on the cushion between them.

And later, when they go to bed, he allows Sirius to coax him with sweet kisses, lets the dog lay between them once more, on its back with all four legs up in the air in what has to be the most uncomfortable position in the world.

And if he falls asleep making a mental list of everything they needed to buy the next day...well, Sirius doesn't need to know that.

**Author's Note:**

> Bonus:
> 
> “Ooh, we can have a puppy shower!”
> 
> “A…a what?”
> 
> “A puppy shower! You know, like the baby shower Alice threw for Lily-?”
> 
> “We are not having a baby shower for our new dog, Sirius – he’s not even a puppy!”
> 
> “Nonsense, Moony, all dogs are puppies.”
> 
> -
> 
> come see me on [tumblr](http://iamsiriusblackserious.tumblr.com/)


End file.
